Colours of Conviction
by lucelafonde
Summary: It's a long road to salvation, and Anders doubts he'll ever reach the end. [Follows the champion and his companions from the gutter. When aggressive!Hawke learns about Anders' situation, he resolves to not let the mage sacrifice himself and looks for a way to separate him from Justice. Features awkward doesn't-know-how-to-express-feelings Hawke and wingman Varric.]


**NOTE:** I wasn't happy with how the "flirt" options didn't really line up with an aggressive personality in the game, so I started wondering what it would be like if prick!Hawke tried to express his interest in Anders (and deals with the knowledge of Justice), and this is the result.

* * *

He had not expected the templars to find him so quickly, not after he had tried to be so cautious, but he supposed he was doomed to always be found in the end, no matter how many times he ran. It was sort of ironic, really, considering where he had ended up now, and Anders didn't wonder for the first time if perhaps life in the Circle would have treated him more kindly than this after all. It was no use now, he had tasted freedom, and he would rather die than be locked up again and hear them call it 'mercy'.

There was no mercy in treating him like a slave.

He would die a free man, that much he and Justice could agree upon at least.

Quickly grabbing for his staff, he spun around, facing the intruders with barely suppressed rage. No, he couldn't release him here, not with all those innocents surrounding them, but Justice was clawing at his mental prison, demanding to solve the problem himself, and Anders' anger only grew with his insistence.

"…Why do you threaten it?" he heard himself say, wondering just how successful he had been in keeping Justice down. It was hard sometimes, to draw the line between them, and Anders wasn't always certain if he had opened his mouth and just hadn't paid attention to his own rambling, which happened sometimes, or if Justice's patience had come to an end.

The three men before him eyed him critically, one of them instinctively grabbing his sword, but another stayed his hand with a hard look before he turned back to Anders with a deep frown and crossed his arms in front of his chest, seemingly growing in size as he scowled at the mage as if he was a nasty stain on his boots.

One that needed to be eliminated.

Anders returned the icy look with as much menace as he could muster, which wasn't much considering that he probably didn't stand a chance against three of them, and he knew it, but he made an effort.

"You should be careful who you challenge," the man said eventually, not touching the tiny dagger fastened in his belt, but Anders' eyes wandered to it anyway, calculating quickly how long it would take the stranger to get close enough to use it and if it would be enough time to take him and his companions out before it came to that.

His grip around the staff tightened, and he pointed it directly at the apparent leader of the group. "I could say the same thing to you."

The man snorted, exchanging an amused look with his companion, before the dwarf at their side stepped in and physically shoved them out of the way to face Anders himself. "Look, blondie," he said quickly, apparently not eager to hear either side object to his interference, "we just came to ask a favour, no bloodshed." He pointed at his boots, expression dead serious. "These are brand new."

Anders couldn't help but grimace at the attempt to lighten the mood, caught between exasperation and amusement, and he knew that the dwarf had seen it.

"My friend here is a little… Well," he cleared his throat, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder as if to check if the man had drawn a blade on him, "verbally challenged. I think someone dropped him as a baby, and he fell right on his head. Don't mind him."

His 'friend' appeared less than amused at the comment, but to Anders' surprise, he did not argue with the dwarf, and he didn't look half as angry as the mage would have expected.

"But I'm being terribly rude, and that's embarrassing when I just insulted this good man for the same thing," he said quickly, bowing slightly as he added as gravely as he could manage, "Varric Tethras, at your service." He kicked the man that had been silent so far to force him forward. "This little ball of sunshine here is Carver, and that," he sighed dramatically, shaking his head in resignation, "that tragedy right here is his brother Hawke."

Anders eyed them critically, wondering absent-mindedly why the humans let themselves be kicked around like that by a dwarf half their size, but he couldn't focus on it as much as he wanted to because once he had classified them as not an immediate threat at least, he had noticed something curious. Something he had missed before, but now that he had calmed down a bit, it was glaringly obvious, and he couldn't help but point it out.

"So a dwarf, a warrior and a mage enter an apostate's secret hide-out," he started, leaving the end of the joke open to fill in for them.

"I like where this is going, blondie," Varric chuckled, "and I hope this ends with 'and had a grand time at the Hanged Man later'."

Anders smiled tightly in reply, still wary of the dwarf's companions, and defiantly returned Hawke's scowl that hadn't left him since the man had entered. "Since you're a mage, I assume you're not here to turn me in?" he said eventually, tired of waiting for the other to explain his presence.

"Don't count on it," he snorted, but he seemed to have relaxed for the moment, and Anders doubted they had come all the way through Darktown just to tell him to expect templars over for tea in the near future.

"What my verbally challenged friend here actually tried to say," Varric threw in quickly, pushing his companions aside again, "is that we would really appreciate if you could help us out with some… maps you might have lying around, unused, wasting away…" He looked up hopefully, but Anders could see that he didn't actually expect him to just part with his possessions so easily.

Anders paused briefly, considering all of them for a moment in silence before he leaned on his staff and purposefully looked Hawke in the eyes as he said: "And what would you need those for?" Varric seemed like an interesting guy, and Anders didn't doubt that they would get along famously, but the dwarf had not been the one to offend him, and he was obviously not the leader of the group, no matter how submissive his companions seemed to get around him. Anders new an alpha male when he saw one, and the way Hawke let others speak for him only served to piss him off. _Excuse me, your Majesty, I wasn't aware it was below you to speak to people like me when you wanted something from them, _he thought bitterly, not giving an inch in his staring contest with the other mage.

Hawke took his sweet time in answering, sizing Anders up slowly before he spoke, affirming his suspicions about being beneath the other. "You're a Grey Warden, aren't you?" he asked eventually, and the way he said it made the mage's skin crawl in disgust. _Didn't expect someone like me in their ranks, did you?_ He snorted quietly, wondering incredulously just how this man intended to make him help with ANYTHING other than showing him the door. If he was lucky.

"I am many things," Anders said vaguely, aware of Varric fidgeting uncomfortably somewhere at the edge of his vision, but he didn't take his eyes off the other mage, "and I asked you a question first." He paused briefly, a humourless smile grazing his lips as he added, "Unless your friend was right and you really did suffer a terrible injury as a baby, I would think you capable of answering."

Hawke's eyes narrowed, and he could hear Varric murmur something under his breath, but it was their third companion who broke the heavy silence with a hateful "Wonderful. Another delicate mage flower."

His brother finally let off Anders, turning his cold gaze towards Carver instead, silencing him with a mere glance before his hard eyes landed on the mage again, his expression tense and unamused. "I would have thought the nature of the maps would be answer itself," he said coolly, raising a mocking eyebrow at Anders, "unless you never actually went to the Deep Roads, which doesn't seem that unlikely considering where you are now."

"I'm exactly where I want to be," he said tightly, flexing his fingers on his staff to prevent himself from fastening them around the other's neck. Of all the narcissistic, hateful… He tightened his grip when he felt Justice flaring up inside him, obviously not amused at being called a coward, and Anders could hardly blame him. They had spent so much time in those blighted Deep Roads, had lost so many men down there… Neither of them was eager to ever go back, but being accused of having escaped their duty when they hadn't, not with this, was too much for both of them to ignore.

Hawke didn't bother answering, instead considering him with a mocking smile as he looked around the room as if to ask _Really?_

Anders clenched his teeth to prevent himself from cursing the man into the next age, but he could barely keep a grip on Justice now, flaring up inside him at the insinuation that their cause wasn't worthy. Of course Hawke couldn't know what Anders was doing here, but the spirit was rather single-minded when it came down to his quest, and even the slightest remark that mocked his mission could set him off.

Especially when it came from a prick like Hawke.

"Terrible accident," Varric said quickly, attempting a smile that ended up rather tragic as he shuffled in front of Hawke, holding his hands up in hopes of calming the mage, "can't blame him, poor boy never had a chance. But I, myself, am a rather charming fellow you will find, and honestly, blondie, give me a break." He sighed, gesturing at his companions as he leaned towards Anders and lowered his voice, "I have to travel with those two, is that not punishment enough?"

He couldn't help but smile at that, conceding that the dwarf had a point. Nobody deserved to be stuck with those brothers, and Anders did feel bad for Varric, but not bad enough to dig out his life as a Grey Warden.

"You chose very poorly indeed," he said vaguely, watching with some satisfaction as Hawke's expression darkened, "but alas, that is not my concern, Ser Dwarf."

"What can I do, I need someone crazy enough to go into the Deep Roads!" Varric cried, and Anders half expected him to throw himself at his feet at any moment to move his heart. He did seem truly determined, if not desperate, he had to give him that.

"That is an excellent point," Anders said slowly, and at his words Hawke's expression turned stiff enough to make him wonder whether it was possible to look more pissed off than him at the moment.

The man unclenched his jaw almost audibly and growled, "Warden or not, you couldn't take on all of us."

That much was true, Anders had to give him that, but then again, that wasn't the point, was it?

"Perhaps," he shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, "but don't think you'll ever find those maps without me."

Hawke groaned in frustration, taking a menacing step forwards, and Anders wasn't sure whether he himself knew what he was going to do when Varric quickly stepped between them and said with a slight sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead, "Look, we don't want any trouble, despite what this may look like. We just want the maps, and then we're out of here, promise."

He almost gave them everything then and there, simply because getting rid of them did sound like a very fine idea indeed, and also because Varric was looking rather pitiful as he tried to avoid the murderous glare Hawke was bestowing him with from above, but he had learned a long time ago that he should never give anything away for free, and there WAS something he could use help with. Truly, this Hawke and his brother didn't seem to be the brightest candles on the chandelier, but they did look like capable fighters, Anders had to give them that, and perhaps they were exactly what he needed.

He focused on Hawke again, partly to challenge him, partly because he knew that the decision would be his, and said slowly, "I could give them to you if you do something for me first."

The man looked very inclined to disagree, but Varric spun on his heels to glare at him, something in the silent conversation between them apparently convincing the human to let go of his pride and meet Anders' eyes with distasteful wariness.

"Get to the point."

So Anders told them about Karl and the chantry, and even though Hawke looked anything but thrilled at angering the templars — something that only made Anders hate him even more —, he agreed to help him for his own selfish reasons at least.

"Fine," Hawke snorted, already turning to leave the place that was clearly beneath him, "we'll rescue your precious boyfriend, but you better have those maps ready when we get back."

Anders was fuming before they had disappeared, and even though Hawke didn't bother to turn around again, Varric threw a concerned glance over his shoulder, taking a cautious step away from his companions when he saw the mage's expression. Just in time too, because a moment later both of the humans stumbled over their own feet, Hawke managing to keep upright by clinging to the door frame while his brother fell face-first into the dirt.

He wasn't sure whether Hawke was amused by this display or angry at having been part of it, and by the looks of it, neither was Hawke. He threw a dark look over his shoulder that screamed murder, but he couldn't help but smirk at Carver's endless stream of curses as he got up and tried to pat the dirt off his clothes.

It hadn't been Anders' intention to entertain him, and his expression said as much, but he couldn't deny that it gave him some satisfaction to see Carver like this, so he allowed himself to smile briefly at the warrior as he still wondered what he had tripped over, and he saw Hawke hesitate for a moment when their eyes met in shared amusement before his expression turned sour again and he left the clinic, roughly shoving his brother forward as he did.

* * *

Waiting was the hardest part. Now that he had a plan — and a relatively decent chance of succeeding —, Anders could barely keep his feet from walking straight out of the clinic and into the chantry, despite the early hour, and it was only through an exertion of extreme willpower that he managed to stay put until the sun had gone down. Not a moment later, he was out and about, already half-way through Hightown before he was completely aware of having moved his feet.

Perhaps he hadn't. Perhaps it had been Justice from the beginning, the itch that had made it almost impossible to focus on his patients after Hawke's visit. It was hard to tell sometimes, and never harder than when Anders' emotions were running high. Justice felt it, fed off it, and between his own issues of restraint and the spirit's greedy hunger for retribution, Anders wasn't always certain where one hatred ended and another's anger began.

To his credit, Hawke turned up only a short time after he had, and the mage had to begrudgingly admit that he was grateful for that — and also that the man he gladly hated apparently had SOME sense of honour in him.

He greeted the group with a distracted nod, already half-turning towards the chantry as he said, "Karl should be here. I haven't seen any templars so far, but they might be inside."

"Let's get this over with then," Hawke sighed, carelessly pushing past Anders and into the chantry before he had any chance to object to barging in like that, but the other mage apparently had no issue with announcing his presence loud and clear for anyone intending to ambush them to hear.

Admittedly, IF there was an ambush planned, sneaking wouldn't have helped them one bit, but Anders still felt himself mentally strangle the man when he followed inside a lot more quietly than Hawke had, and he felt more than saw Varric coming after him, just as quiet, despite his affiliation to a rather inconvenienced race in this respect, and a moment later, he heard Carver stomp after his brother, apparently just as unconcerned with attracting attention as him.

Anders frowned when the warrior pushed past him, shoving him lightly into Varric, who easily got a hold on the mage and kept him upright with a look that was equal parts humorous and pained, and he couldn't help but appreciate that after tonight he would never have to be around those people again, whereas the dwarf seemed to be stuck with them for good.

Scowling at Carver's back, he considered whether incapacitating him for the duration of this trip would harm them more than aid them considering the racket he was making as he tried to keep up with the long and sure strides of his brother. Anders observed them for a bit as he trailed behind them, wondering at the difference in their movements. Hawke was noisy, but not overly so — he simply didn't try to keep his steps quiet, and he walked with a self-confidence Anders had only seen once before in his life. It was still odd to him to see a mage handle himself like that, not ashamed or scared, not trying to blend in, but rather to burst into a city and cry "Here I am! Come and get me IF YOU DARE!"

He had seen it once before, yes, and for a while he had let himself believe that perhaps he could do that too, but the dream had soon shattered, and now Anders was more than capable of merging with the shadows, keeping out of sight and out of mind, and trailing behind Hawke's almost aggressive steps made him feel as uncomfortable as elated.

_Soon._

He heard Carver's heavy boots stomp onto the stairs as if he was trying to kick a hole in them, and he couldn't help but wince at the sound. Varric sighed heavily beside him, and Anders assumed that this wasn't the first time the warrior had behaved this oddly. It was obvious that the man lacked the confidence Hawke possessed, which made him burst into a room as if he owned the place, and simply tried to copy his brother's demeanour, failing miserably on all levels. Owning the place wasn't a question of behaviour, it was a state of mind, and Anders wondered if he should mention that to the warrior some day, so that Varric might be spared future pissing contests between the brothers.

They reached the top of the stairs quickly, and a second later, Anders spotted a lone figure in the dark. He pushed past the others, accidentally shoving Carver into the railing during the process, but he couldn't deny feeling some amount of satisfaction at his angry curses. Distracted from gloating by the presence of the person he had come for, he paid no further attention to the group, approaching Karl with equal measures dread and relief.

It had been too easy.

He should have known, should have expected it, but it still came as a shock, because Anders had allowed himself to HOPE, just once, and it had been a mistake.

When he came to, he was leaning on his staff, barely keeping upright from the sudden rush of adrenaline Justice had left in him, and when he looked up and into Karl's eyes, he knew it was over.

"Make it quick" was all Hawke said, but Anders didn't have it in himself to be angry at him. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that, no matter how cold he had sounded, the mage understood better than anyone else in the room what it was he was faced with.

Anders sunk the dagger deep into Karl's heart just as his eyes turned blank again, and for the first time in his life, he wished Justice would take over and take this choice from him. When he felt the life drain out of his friend's body, he carefully sank to his knees with him, laying him on the ground with painful gentleness. He stared into the empty eyes for a moment, his own expression carefully blank, before he closed them and slowly righted himself, an unspoken apology on his lips.

He felt strong arms heave him up, and he wondered with detachment when his knees had given out, but he couldn't find it in himself to worry about anything right now. He allowed the hands to hold him steady as he said without any hint of emotion, "We should go before more templars come."

He wasn't sure how he had made it back to Darktown, but he remembered bits and pieces of the trip, like Varric eyeing him with no small amount of concern, and Carver keeping a lot more distance between them than was strictly necessary, hiding behind the dwarf of all people as his brother half dragged and half carried Anders back into his clinic.

Allowing himself to be dropped not all that gently onto a table, he took a few deep breaths, rubbing his tired face as he tried to come up with something to say to the people who were surely glaring at him right this moment. But what _could_ he say?

He looked up with wary trepidation, and Hawke's cold eyes told him that he had a lot of explaining to do before the man had even opened his mouth.

"I am forced to revise my opinion of you," he said with a steely glare, "for an abomination, you are actually doing quite well."

Anders would have snorted at the holier-than-thou attitude, but he was too exhausted and too expectant of such a reaction to care, so he said simply, "Why, thank you. It's not much, but it's mine." He tried his best to look the part of the happy hovel-owner, but it was difficult to pretend to be in good spirits when Hawke looked five seconds away from piercing him with his blunt staff — if his brother didn't decapitate him before he had the chance.

"Care to tell us what happened, blondie?" Varric asked uncomfortably, knowingly putting himself between Carver and him. "I mean, I dig the glowing thing, it really brings out your eyes, but…"

Anders sighed, gathering the last reserves of his strength to stand up and face Hawke in a more equal stance. "Are you really interested in hearing the story of how I obtained the power to turn into a night lamp, or would you rather kill me now?" He tried to keep his tone light, but he was already mentally grabbing his staff so he could at least put up a fight.

Hawke considered him quietly for a very long time, which did nothing to dissuade his nerves, but eventually, when Anders (and Carver, if his expression was anything to go by) was so on edge he was starting to tip over, he said calmly, almost soothingly, "I would like the story, if you don't mind."

Anders had expected him to either put a dagger into his heart or make a joke, but the solemn request came out of the blue, forcing him into stunned silence for a moment. Eventually, he said carefully, "When I was in Amaranthine, I met a… spirit of justice. He… we were friends, and when I told him about how mages are treated in Thedas, he offered to help. Make a difference." He sighed, not for the first time wondering how he could have been so stupid. He had judged blood mages harshly all his life because they ruined chances for mages everywhere, but in the end he had fallen prey to a spirit himself, and that was something he didn't like thinking about.

He tried to keep the story as brief as possible, sating Hawke's curiosity while leaving out the less savoury details like how he had woken up surrounded by half-eaten and torn apart corpses after his joining with Justice. He still felt sick when he thought about it, and he doubted the other mage would let him walk away if he knew.

"My anger… it corrupted him. When we joined, he was no longer my friend Justice. He was… Vengeance. My hatred for the templars and the chantry ruined him, and now every time he witnesses an injustice…" He broke off, his eyes conveying to Hawke what his words could not.

He had seen what happened when Anders lost control. There was no need to describe it.

Hawke and his companions considered him quietly for a long time, their expressions varying between careful consideration and open disgust, and when Anders couldn't take it anymore, he moved towards the table he had put the maps on and handed them to Hawke.

"As promised," he said quietly, watching as the other man slowly closed his hands around them, eyes never leaving Anders'. After a moment's hesitation, he handed them to Varric, who quickly stored them inside his vest, and said, still not looking away, "We're leaving."

Anders held his gaze for what felt like an eternity, wondering what was going on behind the carefully blank expression on Hawke's face. Only when Carver let out a horrified "What?! You're letting him GO?" did they turn to stare at him, Anders in rueful expectation and his brother in cold anger.

"No," he said simply, and Anders felt his throat tighten at the simple word. Stupid. Only an hour ago had he scolded himself for being naive enough to hope, and now he had fallen into the same trap again. His staff was leaning against a pole, out of reach, and even if he had had it, he had no illusions of being able to beat the three of them. Not after what had happened tonight. He was still too exhausted and distracted to fight, he knew it, and he didn't bother to ready himself for Hawke's next actions.

Only they didn't come.

Instead, he walked past his brother towards the door, harshly shoving his shoulder so he moved with him and said, "WE are going. I can't say I understand why, but he seems rather intent on staying here."

Anders snorted in a mixture of relief and amusement, watching in disbelief as Hawke dragged his brother through the door, and it took him a moment to notice that Varric had lingered behind, waiting until the other two had disappeared before he turned towards him and said as cheerily as he could, given the circumstances, "Thank you, for these." He tapped against his chest where the maps had been hidden. "And if you ever feel like it, don't hesitate to join me for a round of Diamondback in the Hanged Man. You look like you could use some sunlight on your oh-so-fair skin."

"Mmm I don't know," Anders hummed, meeting the dwarf's eyes with a mischievous gaze, "I've been told it's attractive."

Varric laughed, raising an amused eyebrow. "Don't take this the wrong way, blondie, but I really don't think you need any additional help in that department. You already have this whole 'renegade mage' thing going for you. Give those poor ladies a chance, will you?"

Anders smiled slightly, trying to remember the last time he had done anything just for fun, and when he couldn't, he was almost tempted to accept Varric's offer.

"C'mon, you've seen what I have to put up with," the dwarf said in his most persuasive tone, nudging him gently, "I could do with some civilised company for once."

"And you thought 'renegade mage' would be the perfect choice for that?" Anders laughed, looking at the other with a raised eyebrow.

Varric sighed, shrugging innocently. "Testament to how bad my social situation is right now, isn't it?"

Anders didn't doubt that the dwarf could charm the plate armour off a templar in less than five minutes if he wanted too, and he knew that he would have no trouble finding entertaining companions for a round of Diamondback, but he appreciated what the dwarf was trying to do, and it really had been a long time since it hadn't been just him and Justice.

Sighing, he nodded slightly, watching Varric's face light up with victory, and said, "Fine. I'll see what I can do. I should warn you however; I'm a terrible player."


End file.
